


Fight Me

by Angel_Castiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Asthma attack, Awkward Flirting, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Dorks, Childish Dean Winchester, Chronic Illness, Comforting Castiel, Coughing, Cute, Fluffy Ending, Hospitals, Illnesses, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Nurse Castiel, Parental Bobby Singer, Pre-Law Student Sam Winchester, Sick Dean Winchester, Weak Dean Winchester, Writing Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 07:31:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15456360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel_Castiel/pseuds/Angel_Castiel
Summary: Writing Prompt I saw on Pinterest. Prompt will be at the end notes!Dean Winchester is in the hospital,yet again. His least favorite home away from home. This visit just might be a little different from his usual. Cue, the charming nurse with the unruly sex-hair. Okay, so hospitals might not bethatbad...





	Fight Me

Hospitals were Dean Winchester’s least favorite place. Ever. 

Of course, since _God hated him_ , hospitals also happened to be like a second home to him. Which was fan- _fucking_ -tastic. He could deal though. He had been for twenty years, after all. 

From the young age of four, Dean had suffered from severe asthma. This asthma would later manifest into chronic obstructive pulmonary disease in his adult years. At four years old, Dean had witness the most horrifying incident his little mind could imagine. A house fire. It had started in his little brother, Sammy’s, nursery. Still to this day, the fire’s cause remained unknown. 

Much of that evening had been a blur for Dean. One minute Sammy was being shoved into his arms and his father screaming at him to _run_ , and the next he was lying in a hospital bed painfully hacking up his lungs while they pumped oxygen into his nose. Sammy had been in a hospital crib beside his bed, screaming his little lungs out as they tried to get him on oxygen as well. Little Sammy didn't quiet down until laid on the bed beside Dean, Dean's little hand weakly running through the baby's hair. 

It wasn’t much later that Dad's best friend, Uncle Bobby, rushed into the room, releasing a breath of relief. 

Not only had the fire taken Dean's mother, his father’s will to live, and their home- no, it had also taken his healthy lungs. 

Dean was barely conscious when the doctor gravely explained Dean’s newfound medical condition to his God Parent. Bobby rested his index finger on his upper lip and the rest of his hand cupping his chin in thought as the Doctor explained chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, which would follow Dean for the rest of his life. 

So, here Dean sat. Laying back against a pillow, in an uncomfortable hospital bed. Two more pillows were piled on his head. He was so pissed off. He had a stupid fucking asthma attack. _Again_. 

This specific attack was brought on at Bobby's mechanic shop. The worst he'd had in a long time. 

An old piece of shit car had been brought in, engine didn't even start. After a few tweaks, the piece of shit sputtered to life. Of course, the stupid thing wouldn't _shut off_ after. 

By the time Dean smelt the fumes, it was already too late as his lungs constricted and the familiar sensation of hacking them up took over. 

Bobby was quick to dial 911 and slip Dean's extra inhaler (that Bobby always kept in his office) into his mouth. Bobby led Dean into his office, away from the fumes. And barked orders at one of his employees to ‘shut that car off ya idjit’. 

And now… Now Dean was alone. Apparently, his lungs had been particularly bad on this occasion, and they wanted to keep him for a _couple days_. Days. Just his fucking luck. Bobby had stayed for a while, but a call from the guy who took over Dean's job, dragged the grouchy man away. Bobby had left after making sure Dean would be fine. 

He couldn’t even call Sammy, as Sam was away in California, attending Pre-Law classes. If he did call Sam, Sam would blow all his money on a plane ticket to be with Dean- even if it wasn’t even an emergency. It would not be the first time Sam did that, took a week off school, blew his cash and stayed with Dean until the older had to physically force Sam back to school. 

Dean huffed out an annoyed breath up into the pillows covering his face. Hospitals sucked. You can only play with the bed dial so much, press the nurse button so many times and flick through the ten channels on the TV mounted on the wall so many times. And he’d done all of these things, multiple times. 

What hadn’t helped his already foul mood, was the cranky old bat of a nurse that was tending to him. Granted, he had pressed the button multiple times, to the point where she actually threatened to sedate him. He’d only been asking for essentials- like three glasses of water, an extra blanket to build a fort with (that idea had been shot down), an extra pudding cup with his disgusting meal (also shot down? What a bitch.), more pain medication (she fucking curled her nose up at that) and lastly, the two extra pillows- which of course he asked for during two separate button presses in a row because how dare she curl her nose up at him. 

Dean stared up, counting the specs in the ceiling paneling through the crack between the two pillows. He froze quickly with the sound of the door opening slowly. The witch was back. Dean was a little surprised when he barely heard the woman walk in. After the fourth button visit, the cranky nurse had been stomping around in irritation. 

“Good afternoon, Mr Winchester,” a deep gravelly voice greeted. Dean narrowed his eyes towards the ceiling refusing to give into talking, he was still foul. “I’m just going to check your vitals.” 

His nose scrunched up in rebellion, tilting his head to stare at the pillow that was the direction the man was standing. 

“How are you feeling?” he continued, clearly unfazed by Dean’s silent treatment. 

“Fight me,” Dean growled as fiercely as he could (without irritating his lungs). 

It was silent for a second. Dean had thought the nurse had left. That is until the pillow to his left was lifted away. The scowl on his face fell as he stared into bright blue eyes. This man, was hot. Beautiful blue eyes, dark sex hair that should not be legal and a strong build that was no doubt useful in his occupation as a nurse. 

“Maybe later,” the man said with a small smile. He set the pillow at the foot of the bed and continued charting Dean’s vitals. Dean remained silent, but his eyes followed the dark-haired man around the room. 

The nurse checked Dean’s lungs with the stethoscope, then decided to put him back onto oxygen for an hour or so. After settling Dean with the cannula, the nurse left the room, throwing a small smile over his shoulder as he disappeared down a hallway. 

\------- 

It was an hour or so later when the nurse returned. Someone else had come by to drug Dean up and take him off the oxygen. The man smiled briefly, taking note of Dean’s head not being crowded with pillows. 

“Mr Wincheste-” 

“Just Dean,” Dean narrowed his eyes, cutting the nurse off. 

“Okay, Dean,” the nurse flashed a smile, “I’m just going to take a listen to your lungs again, if that’s alright with you?” 

Dean simply shrugged. The nurse continued as usual, Dean did the usual breathing they asked for, without being asked because at this point in his life, it had been engraved in his head after years and years of the exact words muttered to him. 

“Sounds good,” the nurse nodded to himself. He then glanced down at an expensive looking watch on his wrist. Dean kept silent, as the man listened to the stethoscope and stared intently at his watch. “Your heart rate is a little fast,” the man tilted his head in an adorable way at Dean. 

Dean felt his heart rate raise even more at the nurse staring at him like that, and by the way the nurse’s face twisted into concern, he also heard it. The nurse opened his mouth to say something- but Dean beat him to it. 

“Fight m-” Dean was cut off by an unexpected cough. He hacked harshly into his elbow, wheezing to get air into his passages. He hunched forwards, trying to open his airways. His lungs burned, and his head ached as his fit worsened. Dean was used to this, it usually happened around four times a week at least. 

What Dean wasn’t used to, however, was a gentle hand being set on his back and rubbing calming circles. The nurse said nothing as he rotated between very lightly patting in between Dean’s shoulder blades and rubbing the whole length of his back. When Dean caught a glance over his shoulder, he noticed a small, kind of sad smile on the man’s lips. Dean was just happy it wasn’t pity for once. This was a welcome comfort that Dean had never received in the hospital. Most just stood off to the side, giving him a pitying look as he hacked up his lungs. 

When his coughing died down, Dean was left red-faced, with an embarrassing string of drool hanging from his chin. Sexy, right? He wheezed a couple of the deepest breaths he could muster, and the nurse silently slipped the cannula into his nose again. Dean looked towards the nurse in a silent thanks as oxygen filled his heaving lungs. 

The nurse stayed with him for a while. Within minutes, Dean took himself off the oxygen, as his breathing settled. The nurse busied himself with checking Dean’s vitals. Dean shut his eyes, comforted by the nurse just being in the room with him. 

“I won’t fight you,” the nurse said quietly into the room- Dean flicked his eyes open, looking towards the man through slivered eyes- “because I know you’ll win.” Even though the nurse wasn’t actually looking at Dean, he had a cute little smile on his lips. 

Dean wasn’t sure what to make of that. This nurse, was _healthy_ and could easily take Dean down if he wanted to. But, on the other hand, Dean’s chest swelled with pride. Even if the nurse was saying these things to be nice, it was a boost Dean needed while he struggled to breath in a hospital bed. Made him still feel manly- even when the drugs they kept him on made him drool while he slept. 

When the nurse left, Dean instantly missed his company. The nurse didn’t say much, but it was just nice to have another body in the room. When the nurse returned just before lights out, Dean asked if he could have another dose of pain meds, and the man smiled lightly, getting Dean just what he’d asked for. It was the best Dean had slept in years. 

\--------- 

“You idjit, you chased away another nurse?” Bobby groaned as he strolled into the room and plopped down in the chair beside Dean’s bed. 

“She was awful,” Dean glared at the wall. “I only buzzed for her like ten times, and she’s snippy about it? You work in a hospital lady, people are gonna need ya.” 

“You better smarten up, boy.” 

“How’d you even know anyways?” Dean huffed lightly, arms crossing over his chest. 

“The nice fella in the hallway told me, Novak or somethin’. The nurse that replaced her.” Dean’s mind flashed to the charming nurse he’d been socializing with for the past day and a half. 

“God, he’s so much better than she was,” Dean leaned back against the pillows, blowing out a careful breath. He coughed twice, but it settled down easily. 

“Why’re you smilin’ like that, boy?” When Dean turned to look at Bobby, the older man had a confused look on his face. Dean was unaware that he was smiling. 

“Guy’s been nice. That’s all.” Dean huffed out defensively. 

“Whatever, Son.” Bobby shook his head. “Anyways, doctor said ya’ can leave tomorrow morning, if your lungs continue to clear up.” 

“Thank god.” Dean grinned. 

“You’re still on bedrest, don’t get your hope up. I will call Sam.” Dean leaned back further into the pillow, a scowl on his face. Yes, Sam was such a worrier mother hen, that it was an actual _threat_. 

They talked a while longer, Bobby telling Dean about the old car that had almost killed him. Owner had just up and left, leaving the car for Bobby’s disposal. 

“Fix’er up with a new engine, slap on a new coat of paint, a few upgrades here and there and the damn thing’ll be ready to sell.” The man explained to the younger in the hospital bed. 

“Sounds great Bobby,” Dean nodded, “can’t wait to see her all prettied up.” The car had been a piece of shit, but the model was old and worth a lot of money. After it’s all fixed up anyways. 

“Anyways, I gotta go see what those idjits are up to. I’ll be back tomorrow morning to pick ya’ up.” 

“Okay, thanks,” 

\--------------- 

It was minutes later, after Bobby left, that the nurse, _Novak_ , walked into the room with his familiar smile. 

“Hello, Dean.” 

“Hi-ya, Novak,” Dean smirked. “You never told me your name, nurse,” 

“Oh, my apologies. My name is Castiel, Castiel Novak.” 

“Cast-i-elll?” Dean tried, the name awkwardly rolling off his tongue, “can I call ya’ Cas?” 

“Cas is fine,” the nurse smiled, moving right beside Dean’s bed, “my name is quite a mouthful, isn’t it?” Dean only nodded slowly as the other man started charting down his vitals. 

“Was that you father?” Cas asked quietly, not bothering to look away from the screens. 

“Bobby? I guess, kinda. God Parent I suppose.” Dean murmured in thought, thinking about what Bobby actually was to him, “He’s more like our uncle actually.” 

“Our?” Cas mused quietly. 

“Me and my little brother, Sammy.” 

“Ah,” Cas nodded, “he was very nice.” 

Dean scoffed, which brought on a forceful cough, “that’s only because you just met ‘em.” Dean beamed, thinking about Sammy and Bobby. His little dysfunctional family. “You should listen to Bobby when someone drinks his scotch. Boy, does he have a vocabulary.” 

Cas laughed at that. Dean grinned, proud of himself for getting Cas to make such a cute noise. It was a noise Dean _needed_ to hear again before his hospital visit was up. Dean lit up in embarrassment as the machine he was attached to beeped warningly with his heart rate accelerating. Cas turned to Dean, light panic in his eyes, but his features softened when he saw Dean blushing. 

“So, Doc said I can leave tomorrow?” Dean asked quickly, cheeks still pink from embarrassment, “that’s still happening, right?” 

Cas stepped closer, placing his hand on Dean’s chest, then holding the stethoscope right beside his first hand with his second hand. Dean remained silent as Cas listened. He steadied his breath (coughed a little) and did the usually deep breathing requests. 

“Yes, I agree with the doctor. Your lungs sound a lot better. By tomorrow morning, you should be good to go.” Cas smiled carefully. He pulled the stethoscope away, but his other hand lingered for a second. When Cas pulled back, turning to pick up his chart off a table to the side of the room, and carry on recording Dean’s vitals, Dean couldn’t help but frown at the loss of warmth. 

“So...” Dean started thoughtfully, a widening smirk pulling on his lips, “did you make me all better, Cas?” Dean couldn’t resist the flirty tone in his voice. And it was 100% worth it, when Dean’s chart nearly fell from Cas’ hand as the darker haired man turned towards him with his mouth agape. A faint pink blush colouring his cheeks. 

“Dean...” Cas whispered. He cleared his throat, swallowed once, then opened and closed his mouth twice as he tried to remember how to speak. “I’ve not done anything for you, just gave you drugs and-” 

“I think you’ve helped,” Dean decided, cutting Cas’ nervous rambling off- he thought back to how Cas had comforted him during his coughing fit, “you’re real comforting, Cas.” Dean would've liked to see how the dark-haired man responded, but Cas turned towards the machine before he could. Before Dean could say another word, Cas had left the room. 

Sadly, Dean didn’t see Cas again that evening. He couldn’t blame Cas. He wasn’t the most pleasing thing to be looking at. Red faced, drool, excessive coughing and kind of high off the meds. Cas could do a lot better if Dean was honest with himself. 

Dean drifted to sleep with a heavy heart. For the first time in his whole twenty years of hospital visits, he was sad about leaving in the morning. He’d probably never see Cas again. He’d come back to the hospital, no doubt. But it was unlikely that Cas would be his nurse again. After all, he’d never had Cas as a nurse up until now. 

\------- 

“Ready to go, Son?” Bobby moseyed into Dean’s room. Dean nodded, flipping the uncomfortable thin blanket off his legs. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched quickly. Bobby set a pair of clean clothes on the chair. “I’m goin’ to sign the discharge papers. Hurry up and get dressed.” 

Dean didn’t bother replying as his eyes followed Bobby out the door. He grabbed the pile of clothes, breathing in the comforting scent of laundry detergent, before standing and moving to the bathroom. His changed out of the gown with ease, having mastered it at a young age. He ran his fingers through his hair a few times, taming his serious case of bedhead. 

Another something that would of keep Cas away. But believe it or not, bedhead is the last thing on your mind when your body is trying to hack up your lungs just for the hell of it. 

He dry-washed his face- then sighed, eyeing himself in the mirror. His green eyes were back to full brightness, the coughing had paled them, and they were no longer glossy with pained tears. He pulled on his favorite jacket. He remained in the bathroom for another minute or so. With a final sigh, Dean pulled the door open and stepped back out into the room. The sheets on the bed had been stripped off. He sat himself on the bare mattress to pull his socks and boots on. 

When he stood up again, he went to unplug his phone charger and pocket his phone. It was then, that Dean noticed. 

Beside where his phone had been, sat a coffee. It was a giftshop coffee, but the coffee was surprisingly good considering where it came from. It was the usual medium paper to-go cup. Bobby usually brought them for him, as the hospital staff frowned upon him going down and getting it for himself. 

After staring at the beverage for a second, Dean picked it up and took a swig. It was his usual. But... why would Bobby come up and leave it here if he was meeting him in the registration area in a few minutes. 

Upon further inspection, Dean noticed something what had never been there before. Sharpie. There was writing on the side of the cup. Dean lifted it with a surprised expression. 

_**(323) 790-4967** _

_**‘Fight me?’**_

Dean stared at the cup for a second, mentally telling himself not to drop said cup in surprise. Cas gave him his phone number. Cas wanted him to call him. Dean wondered how he’d managed to seduce the super-hot nurse with his drool and terrible lungs. Not to mention his bedhead and constantly flushed face.

Dean floated his way to the reception, steaming coffee in his hand, phone (with Cas’ number added) in his pocket and a dopey look in his eyes. 

Maybe hospitals weren’t the worst place to be...

**Author's Note:**

> my nurse just came in to check my vitals and I told him to fight me from beneath a mountain of pillows. He just moved my pillows and told me maybe later
> 
> he just came in again and when I tried to tell him to fight me again I started coughing ad I couldn't breath and then he just smiled and told me he won't fight me because he knows I'd win
> 
> Apparently I seduced him with my drool and terrible lungs because he wrote his number on a coffee from the giftship under "fight me?"
> 
> Was originally a Tumblr post, but I found it on Pinterest with someone saying 'Imagine your OTP'
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Please leave Kudos and Comments! Always appreciated!


End file.
